


The Small Things

by Breathless_Ivory



Category: Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breathless_Ivory/pseuds/Breathless_Ivory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You wouldn't miss anyone, and no one would miss me. Haven't you ever just wanted to disappear?"</p><p>In which money and status and family is always complicated, and sometimes you just have to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

It had started small. A secret kept in the corners of his heart; ignored. Something that wasn’t necessarily taboo, but he still denied because it just wasn’t the plan. 

But secrets have a way of letting themselves be heard. The dark-haired Spaniard had never intended for something so clandestine to come out. His keen eye hadn’t even noticed it and some days he wondered if he just hadn’t wanted to see it.

At first, he had excused his jealousy towards women hanging all over Miguel as a mere indication of his desire to have women prefer him for once. He had assumed he was so overprotective because Miguel was his best friend. And at first he had explained the warmth in his chest to be pride over his partner. 

But some things just cannot be ignored forever.

It was an average day when the street-wise man finally figured it out. A normal day for a ground-breaking revelation. Tulio had been lounging on the bed of their rented inn room plotting out their next course of action when he had made an arbitrary joke and Miguel had cracked up. Just a moment of side-splitting laughter that made Tulio break into a chuckle himself, only less with Miguel and more at him.

Miguel looked more happy and himself in that moment than he had in days. It made Tulio angry with himself that he didn’t make Miguel laugh more often. But it hadn’t just been the blonde’s joy that made Tulio’s chest suddenly flutter, it was the realization that he and Miguel fit like a sword in a scabbard. It dawned on him that whenever he thought of his future it was the two of them together, not just him. It had hit him all at once like an arrow to the heart. 

He was in love with his best friend. 

He had handled it carefully after that by being nicer, but not so pleasant Miguel grew suspicious. He started yelling less and consenting more. He gave Miguel whatever he wanted and kept only what he needed. And good God did he stare.

Tulio’s favorite thing about Miguel was how he was exactly the opposite of himself. Not only by physical appearance, but by sheer heart and soul. Miguel’s kindness and optimism shone as bright as his golden hair, while Tulio’s distrust and stubbornness reflected his character. He knew Miguel had seen hard times just like everyone, but somehow he just let the dark atmosphere bounce right off him. Tulio envied him. 

Tulio was a man of reason and logic, and Miguel was a man of passion and faith. Together they were an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. Combined they equaled one halfwit, and everybody knows that morons outlive everyone else.

He treaded these newfound waters carefully, terrified that Miguel would somehow use his sixth sense to pick up on Tulio’s feelings. If there was one thing that would kill Tulio it would be utter rejection. Then the awkwardness that would strain their friendship would eventually lead to Miguel leaving him. Tulio had spent far too long invested in his relationship with Miguel to lose it after all this time.

Now, Tulio realized he was staring again. He just couldn’t help it. He’d never considered himself especially romantic, but he did have feelings, just like everyone. And right now his mind was screaming at him to stop ogling, but his eyes kept on refusing to listen. 

“Why are you looking at me? Is there something on my face?” Miguel touched his cheek as if to wipe it away, but there was nothing there. The duo was hanging out in an alleyway in their homeland of Spain, tossing insults at each other. It was how they bonded.

“Yeah, it’s called ugly.” Tulio deadpanned, his stomach twisting into knots after being caught. It hadn’t been the first time his partner had noticed, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. But strangely enough, he thought it was worth being caught every single time.

“I got it from you.” Miguel retorted, humor glistening in his eyes. His eyes had a habit of gleaming when he was in a good mood and when Miguel was happy then Tulio could only be described as ecstatic. The tall Spanish swindler grinned and waved his hand in the air in dismissal.

“C’mon. You know I’m handsome.” Miguel laughed out loud and shook his head. Tulio opened his mouth to contradict him, but Miguel interrupted.

“Yeah, I know.” Tulio glanced over at Miguel, shock evident in his clear blue eyes. You do? Miguel was staring at him intently, as if gauging his reaction and suddenly Tulio was looking everywhere except at him. What was something clever he could respond with? Tulio cleared his throat.

“Well obviously. Who wouldn’t know?” He flashed a charming smile that he was sure would make Miguel snicker like he’d done a million times before. He remembered the inn room a couple weeks earlier, and tried desperately to think of the joke he had used, but nothing was coming to mind.

Miguel chuckled as expected, but it was his comrade’s reply that made him pause with uncertainty.

“No one. It’s one of the things I like about you.” Tulio raised an eyebrow and deftly wiped his suddenly clammy palms against his shirt. 

“Oh, so you only like me for my looks now? And I thought we had something special.” Tulio’s bravado was starting to crack, and he bit his lip subconsciously. He didn’t want Miguel to ask him what was wrong, because the damn blonde always knew when something was off with him. 

“Your looks are just a bonus. Your personality is what I like most.” Miguel was still staring at him and it was beginning to make him feel rather uncomfortable. The raven-haired man made a mental note to not to gawk at his friend anymore because Miguel probably felt like this all the time.

“Cierto, go on. Next you have to talk about my delightful mood and my kind heart.” Tulio didn’t know what Miguel was getting at, but the air was tinged with humor and he was enjoying himself.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Miguel smirked and added, “but you do have a protective character and a caring soul.” Tulio pursed his lips and sighed. Okay, Miguel would never under any circumstances say he had a caring soul.

“What are you doing, Miguel?” Tulio was on the verge of shaking and he could no longer tell whether or not Miguel was teasing him. He was starting to get sick of playing around.

“I’m warming you up to the idea of me saying things like this more often,” he stated calmly. Tulio blinked and a million thoughts flooded his mind. He had a very strong notion about what Miguel was trying to say and the way he proceeded from this point on could determine his entire relationship with the man. Or was he only overanalyzing his cohort’s true meaning? Either way, Tulio could only think of one logical thing to say.

“Uh…what?” 

“Tulio, what if hypothetically someone admitted their feelings for you, but it could affect your friendship with that person for better or for worse?” It was a good question, and one Tulio found himself asking quite a lot recently. He answered differently each time and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to think of a single helpful solution for himself, let alone the person he was asking it for.

“I don’t really know. I guess I would just tell them how I feel.” Tulio murmured. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d never be ready for this. If he was given a thousand years he’d never be equipped to handle this. It was too much for his poor nerves. 

“What if hypothetically my last statement wasn’t quite hypothetical?” Oh God. Miguel was giving him a puppy dog look. It wasn’t the one he did on purpose either, it was the one he got unintentionally where he lifted his face slightly and opened his striking green orbs wide, looking up at him like a kitten. Like he was begging for scraps.

Maldito.

“Miguel...” He could think of a thousand ways to finish that sentence, none of which would be appropriate at the moment. How was he going to make Miguel understand when even he couldn’t begin to describe how he felt? It was one thing to push down his own emotions for the greater good, but if Miguel was truly implying what he imagined he was then Tulio was in trouble.

“What would you do?” Miguel inquired quietly. Tulio hesitated, trying to make an impossible decision. Battling between what is logical and what is right was always a difficult choice for him to make. His mind was somehow structured to both attract and repel anxiety and he cursed his rotten luck every time he had to make what was in reality a simple choice. 

“I-I don’t think I could take a chance it could be for the worst.” He was playing it safe. That’s how you survived. The risks you take are only taken when no other option is available. Never before had it physically pained Tulio to talk before. The words coming out of his mouth seemed almost surreal, as if a stranger were talking instead of himself. In all his fantasies of him finally professing his love, never once had he imagined it would end like this.

“…I see.” Tulio saw the exact moment Miguel’s heart broke. It was as if Miguel’s world was robbed of all its hope leaving behind an empty carcass. Because he ran off of hope, and it was Tulio who had just taken that from him.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet Miguel’s gaze, but when he saw Miguel’s feet begin to lead him in a different direction he was horrified.

“Where are you going?” Tulio felt bad enough as it was, but if Miguel was leaving him then nothing in the world would ever feel right again.

“I’m getting some air.” Miguel muttered bitterly. His face was contorted in an expression Tulio never wanted to see again, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing it every time he closed his eyes for the foreseeable future. 

“We’re outside,” Tulio pointed out, mentally cursing himself for stating the obvious. Together they made the lovable halfwit everyone adored, but Tulio knew that by himself he was the jackass everyone rooted against.

“Away from here.” Miguel called over his shoulder. When Miguel disappeared into the shadows it was suddenly much colder and much darker, as if he had taken the light with him. Tulio wrapped his arms around himself and bit his lip. His throat was staring to close and it was getting more difficult to breath, but he’d be damned if he started crying. He was the strong, logical one who was going to get them through this.

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”


	2. 2

When you’re searching for someone you can’t just check the obvious places. Tulio learned that the long and hard way. After an entire day of probing the streets of Spain in search of his partner, Tulio was about ready to fall to his knees and sleep for a week. It occurred to the raven-haired Spaniard as he turned down another empty corner that he should have gone after Miguel the moment the blonde had left instead of staying in that cold alleyway.

He had racked his brain for places his partner could have stowed away to. The first thing he had done was go back to their dilapidated hideout where they’d made a home. Miguel wasn’t there as he predicted, and the room seemed very dull without him there. It wasn’t often that Tulio was here without the blonde and now he knew why. It was like all the energy had just been sucked from the room. The shadows seemed to reach for him when he opened the door with a slow creak. He shivered before leaving, making a mental note not to return without his bright-eyed comrade.

The market place was busy as usual, but in his current state Tulio couldn’t help but reminisce. He saw Miguel strutting past the stalls like he owned the place, awkwardly trying not to attract attention to the obvious bulges beneath his trademark red shirt. By some miracle he always managed to make it out of there without trouble, but Tulio was convinced if he had tried the same feat, the guards would devour him in an instant.

He remembered the time the idiot had stolen bread, and climbed the alley wall to escape. When he had gotten to the top he had turned and started doing an insulting jig to mock the guards, but in his zeal he lost his footing and fell into the hay on the opposite side. Tulio had a field day with that one.

Miguel truly was one of a kind. Who else would do the outgoing things he did and still manage to get away without a scratch? In fact, the only times things seemed to go wrong was when Tulio got involved. He may design the blueprints, but Miguel was the real architect. 

He had to find Miguel. Had to make him understand that this really was for the better. They wouldn’t work romantically but they could still be best friends, just like always. That was just how it had to be.

Tulio had traveled from the market place to the city square. He was surprised to see that there weren’t as many people milling about as usual. The people that were there either ignored him or were sizing him up like he was a defenseless child. He balled his hands into fist, ready to swing if necessary, but everyone eventually turned away as if deciding he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t sure which prospect made him angrier.

As his eyes roamed over the pavilion in search of pale blonde hair they landed on a small wooden bench holding a relaxing couple. They were smiling and laughing and suddenly it was like Tulio was seeing with another pair of eyes and seeing a very different couple perched on that exact bench.

 

“I could too!”  
“Miguel, you couldn’t pick up a girl if you paid her.”  
“What and you could?”  
“Exactly. Because I’m tall, dark, and handsome and you’re clinging to your baby fat for dear life.”  
“Braggart.”  
“Braggart who has facial hair before you.”  
“Just wait. I’m going to get a beard someday too.”  
“Yeah and in the same day horses will talk and someone will find El Dorado.”  
“I consider those pretty good chances.”  
“The only facial hair you’re ever going to have are your eyebrows.”  
“Well your little goatee is hardly worth gloating over.”  
“Are you crazy? It’s magnificent.”

 

They had been friends longer than Tulio had realized. He must have been no more than sixteen when he and Miguel had met. Which meant Miguel had been only fifteen; hardly even a man yet, and even then they talked as if they’d known each other forever. The blue-eyed thief hadn’t realized in years about how at ease his friend could make him feel, and remorse pulsed through his veins with every beat of his heart.

 

“Tulio! Tulio, look!”  
“What is it?”  
“Here? Do you see it? Isn’t it amazing?”  
“Is that a hair?”  
“Yeah! Right on the end of my chin too!”  
“Hmmm…”  
“Tulio…what are you thinking?”  
“Wouldn’t it be a shame if…?”  
“No!”  
“Oh dear well isn’t that unfortunate.”  
“You bastard!”  
“Don’t worry, you might grow another one someday.”

 

He remembered how they’d met and smiled to himself. It wasn’t a memory he thought of often, but it was one he’d never forget. It was unexpected and at the time it had seemed too good to be true, but when Miguel had stuck with him he had thought that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in this world was going to Hell. Tulio had been at a vendor for fruit when he was only sixteen. It was the first time he had ever attempted to steal, so when his inexperienced hand closed itself around the apple the vendor was just turning back around and was about to catch him red-handed when suddenly―

It was then that he realized the couple was giving him a strange look. He blinked, not having noticed he was shamelessly staring at them. He cleared his throat awkwardly and shuffled away, making sure he didn’t glance over his shoulder. Miguel hadn’t been there anyway.

Tulio’s eyes were growing heavy, and a headache was slowly beginning to fog his thoughts. He couldn’t think when he had a headache; couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept wandering and thinking about things that weren’t going to help him find Miguel.

A sudden blast of air blew him out of his thoughts and he shook his head to get a clearer view of his surroundings. He found himself staring at the clear expanse of the sparkling teal ocean and the exotic gradient of the sky as it shifted from blue to orange. There were several ships in the port at the moment, preparing to leave with Cortes within a fortnight to find the New World.

If Miguel was here, there was only one place he’d be. Tulio made his way down the docks and found what he was searching for; a recluse spot hidden beneath one of the piers where the water was shallow enough to hide without getting too drenched. The duo used this spot all the time to escape from sticky situations.

Even now, as he bent over to get beneath the pier the water soaked into his trousers and stuck against his skin making him shiver. He had forgotten how uncomfortable it was here; he hadn’t been here since…

 

“I just never saw it coming.” Tulio’s face was downcast and his eyes seemed to stare at anything but his friend’s face. He dipped his hand into the filthy port water that was currently soaking his trousers. Miguel seemed closer to tears than he did, and the thought just made him angrier with himself.

“It’s not like we were ever especially close, but he still raised me. I just saw him a couple weeks ago.” Tulio took in a deep wavering breath and closed his eyes as Miguel put a hand on his shoulder. “Just a couple weeks…”

“It’s alright Tulio. Just let it out.” Miguel was watching him with such an expectant look and it just made Tulio moan into his hands.

“I can’t. My father just died and I can’t…I can’t even cry.” Tulio ran his hands through his hair and whimpered. He couldn’t remember having felt so sad before, and yet he could recall having cried several times. Was it because his father had always been distant? Was it because he had always sought approval that was never there? Was it because he only saw him once in a blue moon, especially after he ran away with Miguel? He loved his father, he knew he did. He just wasn’t sure if it was because he was a good father or because he fed him and gave him a house to sleep in-even if it wasn’t truly a home.

“I don’t understand how you feel, but if you ever need me to do anything just ask.” Miguel’s green eyes held so much more than his words could ever convey, and Tulio had never felt more grateful for his partner than he did right then. 

“Thank you.”

 

And he truly was thankful for every moment. The thought only gave him more conviction, and the stubborn Spaniard abandoned the port, suddenly more desperate than ever to find the damn blonde so they could make-up and move on.

He wandered the streets of Spain, passing all the people who didn’t give a shit about him and trying to find the one person who did. He passed many empty alleyways and vacant shelters. He was practically dead on his feet, but somehow he managed to keep moving even though he didn’t know how.

Then he passed one backstreet where he saw a huddled figure in the corner. He paused, unsure, when he saw a tuft of bright golden hair he knew only too well and his heart leapt. He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he wasn’t leaving without him.

He took large strides like he was afraid Miguel would dissolve into thin air if he dawdled too long. And then he was there; close enough to reach out and touch him, when he realized something was off. The person he had at first assumed was Miguel was muttering under his breath and now that he was closer he saw all the wrinkles drawn tight against his skin and that the yellow hair he had thought he’d seen had merely been the old man’s white mane cast in a golden sheen from the afternoon sun.

“Damnit!” Tulio groaned and hit his fist against the wall in frustration. He could feel all his confidence and energy draining away and he fell to his knees, leaning his head against the brick behind him. The man had stopped whispering and Tulio only just now noticed the old-timer staring at him. Tulio stared back relentlessly until he broke the silence.

“What are you looking at?” He snarled; his patience having worn thin. It took the man a few moments to reply, and when he did Tulio winced at how hoarse and dry his voice sounded. Like wood popping and fizzling in a fire.

“Are you waiting for someone too?” he rasped. He looked emaciated and gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten a good meal in years. Which Tulio had no doubt was true. His hair was shriveled and white, but also long. His beard would probably reach his stomach if he stood, and Tulio wasn’t even sure he could do that much.

Tulio was skeptical at first about responding, but he figured it could do no harm and he could use a rest.

“No, I’m searching.” To no avail. He added silently. The old man took a few more moments to respond, and when he did Tulio was surprised at how spiteful he sounded.

“Well you better find her or you’re going to end up just like me,” the elder warned. Tulio glanced at him, his blue eyes filling with shock at his tone. Though the shriveled human in front of him looked ancient and pathetic, Tulio saw a blazing fire in his gray eyes that couldn’t be extinguished.

“What makes you think I’ll be anything like you?” Tulio mumbled. 

“Because this is what happens when you lose her.” He wheezed. He sounded like his lungs were made of dust. Tulio couldn’t help but wonder how old this guy must be. It seemed like he was close to one thousand. He contemplated what his ominous words meant, but decided he was too tired to think about it.

“I’m not going to lose anything.” Tulio felt like he was comforting himself more than the stranger. Why did he feel like that?

“I said the same thing. And yet. And yet…” The old man shook his head in sympathy and Tulio rolled his eyes.

“Well you can rest assured that I am nothing like you.” Even as he said it, he knew he was dead wrong. Though he may have been years older, Tulio recognized a stubborn pride in the old man that he saw in a mirror every day.

“Let me guess, you know someone. Someone you’ve known for a long time. Maybe you’ve known for a while or maybe you found out today, but you love them. As much as you could ever love anything. This person lights up your world. They give you a reason to wake up each morning and they put a smile on your face before you go to sleep at night. They-” the man broke off from his speech in a fit of coughs and wheezes, but Tulio didn’t need him to finish. Because every single word that came out of the man’s mouth reminded him of Miguel. 

“They hold you up when you can’t stand,” he continued as if he hadn’t stopped, but this time he was whispering, “they…they are the face you see in your dreams. The one who makes you laugh and holds you when you cry. The person you can’t stay angry at, even when they’re furious with you. Someone you can be purely yourself around…” He trailed off, ending in so soft a voice that Tulio barely heard him. The old man’s eyes had misted over but no tears fell. As if he had already used up all his tears a long time ago.

“How do you know all that about-”

“I may be a raving old man but I can recognize a broken heart better than anyone.” The beggar spat. Suddenly he seemed to no longer be there. Like he was lost in his mind with no way to return. Then he was back as swiftly as he had vanished and he stared at Tulio as if he was just now seeing him. Tulio was uneasy just sitting there, but a part of him needed to know what happened to this man and who he was waiting for.

“Yeah. Yeah I know someone like that. How’d you describe him so perfectly?” The man merely smiled as if he knew a secret that Tulio didn’t and sighed blissfully.

“Because Maribel was exactly the same.” The man donned a poignant expression as if the mere thought of her was enough to make him forget his misery and remember it all at once.

“Maribel?”

“Aye. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever known. At least to me. Long golden hair, bright as the sun. And the most beautiful emerald eyes. She had this way about her that just made you want to smile. She had wits too. I couldn’t get a thing past her. I don’t know what she ever saw in me. ”

“What happened?” Tulio didn’t know why he was asking, but the words just seemed to slip past his lips without his permission.

“I didn’t think I deserved her. She was so perfect, and I was but a poor sailor. A grimy man she would sometimes go weeks without seeing. She deserved so much more. She deserved a god. I told her that and she reassured me I was wrong but…I couldn’t believe her. I left her. I thought-” His voice cracked and he let loose another round of coughs.

“I don’t know where she is. To this day I don’t what became of her. Because when I went back for her she wasn’t there. She had left, ya see. She had left because I broke her heart. I never deserved her in the first place. But I needed her.”

Tulio didn’t answer; he had no words. But the man’s story had struck some sort of nerve inside of him and he understood the old man’s warning now. (Not that it was utterly perplexing in the first place.) He found that he was waiting for someone, but maybe it wasn’t Miguel. Maybe he was just waiting for himself to figure out that he didn’t need to be scared anymore. Miguel wasn’t going to leave him, whether their romance worked out or not. And he sure as Hell wasn’t leaving Miguel.

“Gracias.” Tulio took the man’s hand and pursed his lips when the elder flinched visibly, as if no one had bothered to touch him in years. Like he just a filthy beggar and that was he’d ever be worth to anyone except the only other person who’d dared to touch him. His mouth was agape and his eyes whispered disbelief, but he embraced Tulio’s hand and hugged it with a strength Tulio hadn’t expected.

Tulio sucked in a breath when an unexpected realization hit him and he knew without a doubt where Miguel had fled to. There was nowhere else he would go in his current condition. Tulio hadn’t gone there since he was sixteen, and it was the best decision he’d ever made.

He flew to his feet and bounded down the alley and into the boulevard, not caring who he knocked over. He’d wasted enough time checking places he knew he wouldn’t be because Tulio was afraid. Afraid of what would happen, afraid of what he’d say, and simply petrified of what Miguel would say.

But he wasn’t scared anymore. In fact he was eerily calm, and even a little excited. He wasn’t sure how he had remembered the way after all these years, but if Miguel had found his way to somewhere imaginary like the City of Gold he would have found him.

And then he was there. The place he had always dreamed of living and the place Miguel had always prayed he’d get out of. Mansions dotted the proper looking roads and everything looked expensive and fragile; including the people.

The rich snobs who lived here had always turned their noses up at him; the poor dirty child who cleaned clothes for a couple doubloons per house. He had thought getting a job and earning a bit of money might make his father notice him, even be proud. But he wasn’t even sure if the man had ever known.

The place looked smaller than he remembered it being. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been here in twelve years, or because his young eyes had never seen mansions-but castles. They had always made him dream of bigger things like being a benevolent king. His father would have surely been proud of a king. 

He hoped he wouldn’t have to pass anyone who currently lived here. Some of these assholes would no doubt have demanded he leave or something equally as adorable.

Then he saw it; a large gray manor with a navy shutters and a black roof. The white door and picket fence complimented the dark house’s colors nicely. The only difference between the house then and now is that it used to be trimmed, neat, and perfect. But now, the grass was overgrown and brown. The paint on the door was peeling and he saw broken pieces of the fence halfway across the yard. He hadn’t known the man who lived here personally, but he knew his type all too well and he would never have let his household grow into such a rebellious mess.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the house Miguel used to call home and scoffed, before moving on. He walked down several more streets and rounded a couple corners before his breath caught in his throat. 

There he was. Although it had been less than a day it felt like he hadn’t seen Miguel in ages. He was truly a sight for sore eyes and Tulio approached slowly, as if he were hunting and couldn’t let Miguel know he was there.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Tulio suddenly snapped. Miguel jumped and Tulio took a small amount of pleasure in knowing he had just scared the shit out of him. 

“Took you long enough.” His partner was smiling as if nothing had happened and Tulio crossed his arms so Miguel would know how pissed he was.

“I haven’t slept in over a day, my trousers are soaking, and you had me running all over Spain looking for you!” Tulio was complaining, but he really just wanted Miguel to know that he had been searching everywhere for him.

“It’s nice to see you too.” God. What was up with Miguel and his smug little smile? Tulio suddenly thought of something he could say that would wipe it right off his face. He struggled to suppress a smirk of his own.

“And what are you thinking being here? What if he would have seen you?” Tulio had been right, Miguel’s smile vanished, but it didn’t bring Tulio any pleasure like he thought it would.

“Tulio, it’s not like I can’t handle myself.” Miguel pointed out bitterly. The playful air was suddenly gone and Tulio found it difficult to find words to say around his partner which was strange to him.

“I know but—” he cut himself short. Miguel looked at him smugly, thinking he had just won. 

“But what?” He was pushing it, but Tulio merely shook his head in dismissal and let it slide

“Nothing. Look, let’s get the hell out of here. We need to talk and this place isn’t safe. Also I need to change out of these pants.” Tulio gestured to his trousers which had only begun to dry in the bright sunshine.

“Nah. I like it here.” The playful atmosphere had come back, along with Miguel’s smile and Tulio felt both relaxed and annoyed simultaneously.

“Miguel, think for a second,” he warned. It really wasn’t safe to stick around here for too long. They were pushing their luck as it was. Tulio didn’t know just how much this neighborhood had changed since he was a child, and he didn’t care to find out.

“I am. And I think you don’t really have the right to tell me what to do at the moment, do you?” Tulio rolled his eyes and fought off the overwhelming urge to strangle his partner, feelings and all.

“Fine. We stay here. But if anything goes wrong—”

“What could go wrong?” Miguel interrupted, reaching out to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. It didn’t help. He appreciated the effort, but wiped his hand off his shoulder in irritation.

“If anything goes wrong we hightail it out of here and I kick your ass.” Tulio was truly glad to see his friend, but he was too worried about their safety to show it at the moment. Besides, he had a hunch Miguel could already sense it anyway. He sighed inwardly, trying to think of what he was going to say. He had been hoping to use the walk home to figure that out, but now it seemed like he was just going to have to improvise.

“Sounds like a plan.”


	3. 3

Tulio gulped and wiped his sweaty palms across his shirt. He stroked his chin in thought, wondering if he should even make an attempt. It wasn’t too late to back down, and it was unlucky to end well. In his entire life he’d never done anything like this before. The raven-haired Spaniard had always been laid-back and right now he was about to take the biggest risk of his life.

He was going to steal.

But still, there was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind. He had never stolen anything before, what if he got caught? Or worse, what if his father found out? He hadn’t eaten in a while, however, and his coin purse was as starving as he was. Tulio’s stomach strongly protested at the idea of simply walking away so he took a deep breath and built up his courage. 

The boy glanced to his right cautiously. His blue eyes fell upon their target–a robust fruit vendor who did not seem at all the type to eat fruit–and he grinned to himself. The merchant’s back was turned. Maybe it was the sudden rush of adrenaline or perhaps it was the gnawing sensation in his stomach, but Tulio was emboldened with a sudden surge of recklessness. He glanced over his shoulder once before he snaked his hand closer and closer to a shining red apple. He’d never felt so perfectly bad before than he had in the moment his hand clasped around the fruit and Tulio reveled in the feeling.

Unfortunately for the newfound thief his bravery was short-lived. Before Tulio fully comprehended what was happening the vendor was turning back around and he was still standing there with his filthy little hand wrapped around the man’s merchandise. He tried to run, but he found that he was rooted to the spot, eyes glued to the merchant’s back.

“HEY!” 

Tulio gasped; eyes wandering wide as plates. It took him far too long to realize the voice hadn’t come from the merchant–it was far too high-pitched–but from a stranger. The blue-eyed thief’s heart stopped cold when a hand captured his wrist with the fruit in hand and yanked it backwards. He felt both horrified and relieved when his stolen apple disappeared down the sleeve of his captor.

“Wha-“ 

“Sebastian, did you really think you’d get away so easily?” The high-pitched voice was speaking from behind him and the entire pavilion was dead silent as everyone stared at them. It made him uneasy and Tulio struggled against the intruder’s grip.

“I don’t know what you’re talking abou-“ 

“Oh please! You were hired to clean our house and serve as our personal butler, not to come spiriting away to festivals whenever you please. We’re paying you for your services, not to have fun!” 

The only logical explanation that Tulio could fathom was that this stranger was mistaking him for someone else. He was nuts.

“Get off of me!” Tulio hissed. He found himself being whirled around and suddenly he was face to face with his offender. He was a boy. Around Tulio’s age, but younger. He had a stocky, clean shaven face, blonde hair that was cut close to his scalp, and big green eyes that were now focused angrily on the young thief.

“I have never been so disrespected. If you wish to eat tonight you will do as I say.” As the blonde was speaking his facial expression changed ever so slightly. It was a subtle and rapid gesture, however, Tulio still understood exactly what the boy was trying to convey. Suddenly the entire incident was crystal clear. 

“…I’m sorry if my negligence has inconvenienced you...m-master,” he murmured. 

It physically hurt Tulio to utter those words. He grimaced and struggled not to hate this stranger when he saw a smug smirk curl onto his face.

“Hmph. That’s better. Now come along before father returns home to see you’ve run off again,” the boy replied gruffly. 

“Very well.” 

Tulio was dragged down the street by the blonde. He risked a glance behind him to see people openly laughing and he scowled at their jests. It was bad enough that his pride was irreversibly damaged, but the unrestrained mocks just made him angrier. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be pulled along like a slave so his cover wouldn’t be blown. When they were around the corner and out of sight the blonde released his grip on Tulio’s arm and started laughing hysterically.

“That. Was. Amazing!” He cried. His eyes were sparkling and his smile stretched from ear to ear, however Tulio merely rubbed his wrist which was aching from the blonde’s tight grasp.

“Oh do you think so?” Tulio muttered wryly. He cast the boy a dark glower but he hardly seemed to notice.

“Of course! I’ve never stolen before but it was so much fun! Did you see their faces? I bet that guy doesn’t even know his apple is up my sleeve. Oh, here you go by the way.” he reached up his long white sleeve and produced the stolen apple. Tulio had almost forgotten they had gotten away with it and he glared at the boy suspiciously. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked as he snatched the apple out of the blonde’s hand. Tulio’s hostility didn’t even faze him. He just shrugged modestly and kept talking.

“Well I was watching you because you looked seriously shady and I thought it might be interesting. You were about to get away with it too but that guy was turning back around and I don’t think you noticed because you just kind of sat there all frozen so I just kinda jumped in before I realized what I was doing. The dialogue was a bit choppy but I think I did okay for having made it up on the spot.” Tulio blinked as he attempted to process the boy’s rambling. The dark-haired boy quickly recovered and frowned.

“Why would you help me?” Tulio inquired. He wondered why he was asking so many questions and hadn’t just taken the apple and ran off. He considered the possibility that the stranger’s exuberant nature was appealing, but he swiftly dismissed the idea. The kid was nothing but annoying.

“You’re the most interesting thing to happen to this boring old place in years. I couldn’t just let them take you away. Especially since you were so brave.”

That wasn’t an answer Tulio had been expecting, but he couldn’t exactly say he was shocked to hear it come out of that particular punk’s mouth.

“I wasn’t brave I was hungry,” Tulio stated. It was true. He couldn’t claim he had been brave when he had frozen at the first indication of danger. 

“I wouldn’t have had the guts to do that if I hadn’t eaten in weeks!” 

Tulio wanted to roll his eyes when he saw the blonde’s green eyes widen at the mere thought. The raven-haired thief also felt a strong desire to deck the kid because of his comment. He said he wouldn’t be brave enough, but Tulio reckoned he hadn’t seen a hungry day in all his years. If the stranger’s new clothes and clean face were any indication he hadn’t felt a single rumble in his belly since the day he was born. The blonde would be stealing in an instant the moment he felt the throbbing pang of hunger.

“Right…well thanks. I should be going—” Tulio supposed he appreciated the kid saving him. However, he still felt extremely uncomfortable in his presence. He wanted to leave immediately.

“You’re coming back, right Sebastian?”

“My name isn’t Sebastian,” Tulio responded immediately. He hated that name. It sounded undeniably pompous and arrogant.

“Well neither is mine but I need something to call you.”

“Tulio,” He had no clue why he had given the half-pint his name. Tulio assumed it was because he couldn’t stand being called Sebastian one more time. 

“I’m Miguel,” the blonde chirped. Tulio couldn’t care less what his name was, he just wanted to get out of there.

“Right. Well. Like I said, I really must be going. Thanks for everything,” 

“But…you are going to come back right?” Miguel pouted and Tulio rolled his eyes at the pathetic sight.

“Why do you care?” Tulio snapped.

“Because…if I’m not hanging around to save your pathetic ass you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Tulio inhaled slowly. He felt the customary anger that came with being insulted pulse through his veins, but behind it all Tulio sensed something deeper than that.

“Sorry, but I’m not going to be coming back here now that everyone’s going to be calling me Sebastian. Seriously, couldn’t you think of a better name?”

“It’s the name if my horse, I had to make it believable.” Miguel shrugged.

“I remind you of a horse?” Tulio curled his nose, suddenly worried for his reputation.

“Hey, that’s a compliment. Sebastian is a regal steed.” The way the blonde jumped to his pet’s defense made Tulio realize he could be in much better company.

“…Well I’m gonna go…”

“Wait! Um…do you want some food or something...or uh…” Miguel trailed off and bit his lip. Whatever he had been planning to say was lost. Tulio couldn’t especially say he cared.

“I don’t need your help,” Tulio sneered. This kid was really starting to get on his nerves. If he stayed at this point it was only to scavenge whatever dignity he could find. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should quit while he was ahead but he ignored it.

“Yeah? How’s that apple that you didn’t need my help for?” Miguel smirked and gestured to the fruit Tulio was still holding tightly in his hand. 

“Look, I would have gotten away with it by myself if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” Tulio retorted icily. He knew it wasn’t true and he knew Miguel knew it wasn’t true, but somehow the words still slipped out without bits accord. There was just something about this kid that made him crazier than normal.

“There’s no way! You’d be on your way to your grave if it weren’t for me. You’re welcome by the way.”

“I had an entire plan worked out and everything. I would have been fine without you.”

“What was it? Grab and go? Or was it something elaborate like pray you don’t get caught?”

“I don’t have to take this.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Not for long.”

“Fine. Go get yourself killed.”

“Fine. But I can do it without dying.”

“Fine.”

“Alright.”

“So go.”

“I will.”

“What’s keeping you?”

“Nothing.” And with a flourish Tulio turned and marched away, not even giving Miguel the satisfaction of looking over his shoulder.

 

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Tulio was at a sudden loss for words. It wasn’t unusual for Miguel to see his friend this way. Their life was made up as they went, living from con to con and never knowing what lay ahead. He didn’t blame his friend for not knowing what words to use, even though the blonde already knew what his partner wanted to say. Miguel laughed internally as he waited for Tulio to spill his guts. He said it last time, it was Tulio’s turn.

“You said you wanted to talk.” Miguel prompted and Tulio nodded slowly.

“I did say that didn’t I?” Tulio responded weakly. Miguel held back a chuckle at his friend’s obvious discomfort. Their life may have been improvised, but the dark-haired man always found his way out of any situation. Miguel knew they’d be fine this time as well. 

The Spaniard’s lips twitched in effort as he made attempt after attempt to say something. Miguel couldn’t quite recall having seen his comrade so flustered. It was hilarious. Finally a sigh broke from between those same lips and Tulio threw his hands up into the air in defeat.

“Alright. I’m just going to say it—”

“Oh no,” Miguel’s green eyes had drifted over Tulio’s shoulder when he saw a flicker of movement. He’d had expected anything but what his eyes landed upon. A gasp forced its way into his lungs as his eyes locked onto their target. Tulio glanced behind him in both alarm at Miguel’s state and annoyance that he’d been interrupted. He cursed under his breath and turned back around in the same motion, focusing his blue gaze onto Miguel’s petrified face.

“Damnit Miguel, I told you we couldn’t stay here!” Tulio whispered frantically. Miguel hardly heard his friend’s rebuke–he was entirely too focused on the figure beyond Tulio–and he just nodded slowly.

Somewhere in between fear and guilt he felt oddly relaxed. It was a vague and slightly confusing sensation considering his back was rigid and his toes were curled, but a part of his brain gently reminded him that he had nothing to be scared of. The thought emboldened him enough to tear his eyes away from its mark and back to his partner. 

“Scold later, escape now.”

This neighborhood had always been known to him as The Number One Place To Never Step Foot In Ever Again. Yet he had coyly thought it to be the best spot to hide away. When he had left Tulio in that alleyway he knew Tulio wouldn’t immediately go after him. He had chosen the one place he knew Tulio would check last. It only proved that Tulio cared enough to never give up the search. At the moment it had seemed brilliant. However, he should have known better. Tulio often told him that the plans Miguel considered fool-proof often turned out to be the craziest. It was only just now that the blonde realized he should have listened. He’d rather be swallowed by a shark than face this man again.

Miguel could feel himself begin to shake and he mentally cursed himself for behaving like a helpless child. But he couldn’t help it. His father really brought out the worst in him. 

The blonde hadn’t seen his father in twelve years. He’d been only a reckless kid then, dreaming of an adventure he knew he’d never have. It was disorienting seeing Roberto Morientes Rubio de la Salarza–better known as his worst nightmare–in the flesh. He could only associate his father to his childhood and it was as if the world was turning the opposite way and he was getting younger and younger; becoming the same terrified little boy he had been so long ago.

As fortune would have it, it was far too late to escape. Tulio was nudging Miguel in the opposite direction quietly, and the blonde was hoping the man behind them would just ignore the duo, but as is so often their fate there was no such luck.

“Miguel?” Tulio cringed visibly and Miguel let out a small squeak. Neither turned around, they just kept walking, pretending they hadn’t heard even though Miguel didn’t think he’d ever heard anything more clearly in his entire life.

“Miguel, wait please!” They heard panting as if the robust man behind them was running and a quick glance over the shoulder proved he was indeed doing just that.

Tulio inhaled deeply and whirled around. He placed a hand on his hip as if in aggravation and raised a thin eyebrow inquisitively. Miguel could not recall having ever been quite so grateful for his partner than he did at that moment.

“I’m sorry, do we know you?” Tulio inquired.

Roberto scoffed and waved a hand at Tulio in dismissal. Miguel could see the rage ignite in Tulio’s eyes at the gesture and the blonde was hit with an intense urge to hit his father. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but one he’d never acted upon.

“Miguel, I know you know me,” The swindler’s green eyes flickered across Roberto’s body timidly. The man in front of Miguel was a great deal larger than he remembered him being, and had an excessive amount of brown and white hair. Maybe it was because Miguel vastly disliked this man, but he could have sworn he was also much uglier than he had been twelve years ago.

“Who is this Miguel you speak of? This is my…brother Augusto and I am…Sebastian.” Miguel pursed his lips as if he was trying to suppress nervous laughter and Tulio nudged him, subtly warning him that now was not the time.

“Cut the act. You may have been able to fool every man here with your little antics, but not me. Miguel, we must speak. Privately.” Tulio frowned. Miguel felt his blood turn cold and he knew it’d be a bad idea to go with him, especially without Tulio. Miguel opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a strangled gurgle. Tulio rolled his eyes.

“Look, you’ve caused Miguel enough trouble. He doesn’t need to go anywhere with you,” Miguel was grateful that Tulio was speaking for him since he couldn’t do it himself. He could never do it before, but now the blonde was just ashamed that he couldn’t even say a single word.

“I’ve caused him enough trouble? Look at where you’ve gotten him! He’s stealing money and living on the streets. He was perfectly fine before you came and confused him.” Roberto turned back to Miguel and clasped his hands together as if in prayer.

“Please son, there are things that must be discussed. I know I was never the best father but I never knew I was pushing you away so badly. Come home with me so we can start over.” Miguel was shocked. Never would he had guessed that his father would say such a thing. He had been the controlling type. While he knew Tulio had just wanted a little attention from his own father, Miguel had wished every day that his father would leave him alone. 

“I’m almost thirty. I am living my life.” The blonde finally spoke up. He had never thought he’d see the day where his father was beaten, but here he was now; eyes dead, shoulders hunched, hair matted. He shouldered past Tulio so he was facing his father directly. 

“You can’t tell me what to do anymore, father.” Miguel’s head was high and his father was looking confused as if he had never expected this to happen.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you, but you must know that I thought I was doing what was best. I was afraid you’d turn out to be a delinquent. What I did I did out of love.” He pleaded.

“Y―what?” His father had loved him?

“Surely you knew? Miguel, I’m your father, I’ve always loved you.” His father reached out to lay his hand on Miguel’s shoulder but Miguel backed up.

“You had quite a way of showing it.” He didn’t yell it, or spit it out. Miguel just murmured it quietly as if he was talking more to himself.

“Miguel if I could take back what I did I would. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for years so I could apologize. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but perhaps in time you may learn to forgive me.” His words sounded genuine, but Miguel had always known the man had a way with words.

“So, what you just want me to come home with you and pretend like nothing happened?” He said with a voice filled to the brim with contempt. 

“…It sounded much less cynical in my head.” His father admitted uneasily, beginning to wring his hands.

“I can’t believe this you haven’t changed one bit!” Miguel raised his voice and Tulio laid a hand on his shoulder as if to let him know he was on Miguel’s side.

“No! No, I have please just let me show you.” He was begging now, and Miguel could not recall ever having heard his father sound so desperate. He had always been strong and authoritative, but now Miguel was beginning to think he just might have been human too.

“Why would I go home with the same man I ran away from twelve years ago?” Miguel questioned him. The idea sounded insane. But seeing Roberto like this after all this time pulled at Miguel’s heart strings. This was a chance to start over and have a father again. Miguel was often one for second chances, however, he did draw the line somewhere. His resolve started to wear thin and he wondered if he was truly considering taking his father up on his offer.

“Because you were a child back then who believed their father did not love them. But now you know the truth. Miguel, I’ve never loved anyone more than you besides your mother,” It was a last ditch attempt, mentioning Miguel’s mother, but for some reason Miguel felt obliged to believe it.

“But…you…” he trailed off, not even sure what he had meant to say in the first place.

“Please.”

“Can I at least think about it?” Miguel asked quietly. He needed time to sort through all this new information. He supposed that deep down he’d always known his father had loved him, but his childhood imaginations had played tricks on him.

“Yes, yes of course. Take all the time you need,” His father said; relief thick in his voice.

“Come on Tulio. Let’s go home,” Miguel turned to look at his best friend for the first time since his father arrived and he saw many conflicting emotions in his ocean blue eyes. He saw a few he recognized; fear, sadness, pity; but he also saw something he didn’t recognize. He didn’t want to stop to figure it out so he tugged on Tulio’s sleeve before walking away; looking straightforward the entire time.

“Yeah,” he heard Tulio say before following his partner away from their past and towards their future.

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“It’s you.” The blonde was staring at him intensely, wonder and disbelief scrawled across him expression. Tulio squirmed awkwardly under his extreme gaze, but noted that while he seemed to be shocked at the thief’s return, he had a sly smile that implied an entirely different story.

“Hey,” Tulio muttered awkwardly. 

The dark-haired Spaniard’s pride had wept when he’d decided to return to this house, however, his needs outweighed his wants and he simply had no other option. He had no reason to expect Miguel was different than every other rich prude he’d ever met besides the events that had occurred a few days prior, but he still had to try. Tulio had no more than finished that thought when a laugh burst from the blonde’s lips, forcing him to hold onto his white picket fence for balance. The blue-eyed thief clenched his fists in indignation.

“Okay, forget it,” Tulio snapped once the blonde’s face began to redden. 

In his entire life he’d often felt ridiculed by the more fortunate. He wasn’t even all that poor, but he felt like the lowest scum around people who had everything. Tulio felt a flicker of shame that he’d let himself think for even a second that this blonde boy would think he was worth more than a few good laughs.

“No, no, no wait. I’m sorry. Don’t go,” Miguel managed to gasp as he tried to quell his laughter. He raised a hand as if to grab Tulio’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it and just left it hanging in midair. Tulio paused but was tempted to keep going when he saw Miguel discreetly wipe away a tear.

“You came back,” Miguel stated plainly and Tulio rolled his eyes.

“You must be a scholar,” he said disdainfully. He felt on edge and wary, as if any moment someone would jump out from the shadows and attack him. However, he could feel his tension dissipating the longer he stayed there. 

“Ha ha. So why are you here?” Miguel asked.

Now it was the blonde’s turn to be wary. Through his wide goofy smile Tulio could see someone who had trouble trusting people. Perhaps he only recognized it because he knew what it felt like to constantly question everyone. Tulio found it strange nonetheless, that this kid of all boys had issues bonding. The thief was having all sorts of trouble placing a label on the blonde. One moment Miguel was The Outgoing Braggart and the next he was The Wary Introvert. 

Miguel’s question almost caught him off guard even though Tulio had known he’d ask it. How could he not considering how they’d last parted? The dark-haired thief had been going over what he was going to say the entire walk there, but when he opened his mouth something else came out.

“Well…you did offer me food,” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Miguel had done that. But it wasn’t the real reason Tulio had come back. He wouldn’t have risked so much humiliation just for some easy food.

“What happened to ‘I don’t need your help’?” Miguel narrowed his eyes suspiciously and crossed his arms, but Tulio didn’t miss the beginning of a smile curling at his lips.

“I don’t. I just thought I’d give you a chance to apologize,” Tulio retorted. He mimicked Miguel’s movements in an effort to appear intimidating, but he had a feeling it didn’t work.

“So you’re hungry then?” Miguel said smugly.

“Starving.”

“Come on in you little moocher.”

Miguel led him in through the front door. Tulio had been in nice houses before so the interior didn’t come as much of a shock to him, but it was still fantastic to his poverty-accustomed eyes. Miguel’s mansion was big on the outside, but on the inside it seemed gargantuan. The walls were a spotless white and the floor was polished marble and hanging from the ceiling was a huge crystal chandelier. Tulio felt even more deprived than usual with his too-small clothes and matted hair.

“Nice house,” Tulio commented casually.

“Thanks. Here, the kitchen is this way,” Miguel led him down a hallway and turned left at one of the doors which revealed a massive kitchen. There were marble countertops with many utensils and in the corner Tulio saw an oven completely constructed by brick and tile. There was kettle hanging above a smoldering fireplace and Tulio could smell a delicious scent wafting from it.

“Nice kitchen,” He repeated.

“Thanks again. You don’t mind leftovers right?” Miguel didn’t wait for him to give an answer before scooping some of the broth stewing in the pot into a small pewter bowl. 

“I’ve never been so disrespected,” Tulio deadpanned.

“I’ll take that as a no. Here,” Miguel replied, handing him the bowl, “dinner is served.”

“What, you’re not going to cook up a fresh gourmet meal for some random guy you just met? I thought we had a real connection,” Tulio took the bowl eagerly and began spooning it into his mouth without remorse.

“I thought so too. That’s why I thought it best not to poison you with my cooking,” Miguel responded with a laugh. He watched as Tulio all but inhaled the soup and the blue-eyed Spaniard was startled to see that he didn’t look put off or disgusted in the slightest.

“You can’t cook?” Tulio asked, his eyebrow raising incredulously.

“You sound surprised,” Miguel replied flatly.

“I guess I just thought that rich people could do anything.” Tulio shrugged.

“Pretty much exactly the opposite. The servants do most of the work. One of the butlers insists on bathing me but I usually manage to get out of that one. Now if it was a pretty maid it’d be a different story.” Miguel had this huge grin and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I guess rich people really can do anything,” Tulio wasn’t sure where the joke had come from, it had just seemed to slip out before he thought about it. The thought almost distracted him from seeing Miguel run his hand through his hair in exasperation.

“I think we’d be better off pretending you didn’t just say that.”

“Huh. I guess I’m wrong,” Tulio decided to ignore it and just enjoy it while it lasted. It felt weird to be chatting with someone so openly. Tulio shrugged, hiding his cheeky smile behind the bowl of soup.

“You’re acting pretty rude for someone depending on me for food,” Miguel observed; crossing his arms.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Tulio grinned roguishly as he finished his broth. He set the bowl on the counter and decided that now was as good a time as ever to bring up the true motive for his visit. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and swallowed.

“So food isn’t the only reason I came here,” he admitted, playing with a thread barely connected to his old torn shirt.

“I didn’t think so,” Miguel remarked. Tulio picked at the string some more as he tried to think of the best way to phrase his question.

“I was wondering if you wanted to help me with something,” Tulio began slowly; choosing his words carefully. He could see this potentially running down several avenues.

“I’m listening,” The blonde urged him on when Tulio paused. Tulio took a deep breath and just decided to ask. What harm could it do if he said no? He wouldn’t blame him, and he’d already eaten his food so he could just leave.

“Right. Well. I need you to help me get some medicine.” Tulio blurted out, looking at Miguel as he waited for an answer. Miguel’s smile slowly faded from his face as he processed Tulio’s words and the friendly atmosphere that had surrounded them disappeared with it.

“You just want me to buy you something?” Miguel’s voice dropped an octave and his lips turned down into a scowl. Tulio was astonished to see such a happy-looking face turn so dark in light of a simple request. Tulio blinked.

“…Actually that’s probably smarter than what I had in mind.” He observed with a small chuckle. He glanced as Miguel to see him furrow his eyebrows.

“What did you have in mind?” Miguel inquired. Still curious, despite appearing so hurt.

“I was just going to steal it. But I can’t do it alone. You’re the only person I could think of who might say yes. Believe me, I wouldn’t have asked you if I had another option.” Miguel’s features suddenly brightened drastically and he beamed. Tulio found himself relieved to see the kid look so cheerful again, though he couldn’t fathom why.

“You’re right that is dumber than my idea,” he said with a smirk. 

“So are you going to do it?”

“You’d have a hard time convincing me not to.”

“Wait, really?” Tulio was pleased the blonde agreed to help him, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why would someone who had so much to lose help someone who had nothing to give them?

“Yeah why not?”

“Because you could get caught,” Tulio warned him. He just hoped it was a risk the kid was willing to make.

“So could you. Do you want my help or not?” Miguel inquired.

“No, no I definitely want your help.”

“Uh-huh. Well stop complaining and start planning.”

“Right. Well, I was thinking we could do this…” 

Tulio told Miguel his plan. It was simple, but they were also novices in the art of thievery. The medic had a small store a few blocks away from Tulio’s house. He had a brand new shipment that came in a few days ago. The medicine Tulio needed was part of that shipment, but the doctor refused to lower the price to something he or his father could afford. It was time for drastic measures. Miguel was going to distract the clerk with the prospect of a sale while Tulio stole the medicine. It was artless, flawed, and crazy; which is why it had to work. 

Suddenly Tulio heard the sound of a door crashing in and he heard Miguel inhale in surprise. Miguel suddenly looked at him sharply and Tulio was stunned to see a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Tulio, you need to go. Hurry! Out the back.” He ushered Tulio towards the same door they had come through to get to the kitchen and as soon as they passed the doorway Miguel bumped into a man Tulio had never seen before. He was tall and stocky, but not fat. His hair was short and a dark russet. He had the darkest brown eyes Tulio had ever seen and just the sight of him made Tulio suck in a breath.

“Father!” Miguel squeaked in surprise. Tulio peered at the scrawny blonde kid beside him in disbelief. Father? The two looked nothing alike, except for the wide set shoulders and broad face. Tulio assumed Miguel took after his mother.

“Miguel, who is this?” The man had a deep and booming voice that would have sounded friendly if he’d had a smile on his face. He was glaring at Miguel in expectation and Tulio was standing close enough to feel Miguel shaking. The raven-haired teenager was bewildered to think Miguel was so scared. Sure, he had a threatening aura, but after a few moments you kind of got used to it. Tulio was already starting to calm down.

“This is my friend, Tulio.” Friend? Tulio swallowed as he heard the word. He could hardly believe it. 

“Your friend, eh?” Miguel’s father smiled as he looked at Tulio and he felt himself relax significantly. This guy wasn’t so bad. 

“Yes,” Miguel didn’t seem relieved however. Tulio could still feel his friend trembling and he reached out to hold his elbow. He didn’t know how much comfort that would give, but he didn’t know what else to do.

His father’s brown eyes flickered up and down Tulio’s body as if appraising him and when he met Tulio’s gaze his blue eyes could only hold the man’s brown ones for a couple seconds before they flitted away nervously.

“Miguel and I have something we must discuss. I think it best if you leave.” He suddenly said harshly. Miguel tensed and gulped before opening his mouth to argue.

“Fath―” Miguel began but the man cut him off.

“Stay out of this, Miguel.” Miguel swallowed and jutted his jaw out, but he kept his mouth shut for once. Tulio glanced at Miguel one last time before heading for the exit without a fight.

“Oh and Tulio,” Miguel’s father called after him causing the raven-haired Spaniard to turn around, “don’t come back.”

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The silence was heavy. 

Miguel closed the door behind him and followed his best friend into the room. They stood there staring at the floor for a few moments and Miguel knew what Tulio wanted to ask him, and he knew exactly how he was going to answer.

“So are you going back?” Miguel looked up at Tulio. He knew how Tulio must be feeling. They had left that life behind for good when they were only teenagers. They had each other; that’s what they knew. When Miguel thought of his father he couldn’t think of any good memories. There was not so bad to apocalyptic. He never wanted to go back there, even if he had changed. It would just be too hard.

But then again…he could spend the rest of his life having the father he’d always wanted.

“I’m not really sure.” Miguel mumbled.

“I don’t think you should.” Tulio crossed his arms. When Miguel looked up at him he saw Tulio’s eyes are hard as flint.

“Why not?” Miguel asked. 

“The man doesn’t deserve to be a father.” Tulio practically spat. Miguel had seen his friend angry many times, but whenever his father came into play there was no reasoning with him.

“I know. But―”

“No buts, Miguel. It’s really a bad idea.” Tulio cut him off. 

“He could have changed.” Miguel suggested gruffly.

“And if he hasn’t?” Tulio asked cynically.

“Well then I leave and don’t go back.”

“Good, but you’ve already done that. Remember?”

“I should give him a chance.”

“So, what, you’re just going to leave me?” Tulio’s strong voice cracked as he uttered the words. Miguel had had several different retorts in mind, but paused when he heard that.

The sentence hung in the air. 

“Is that what this is about? Do you not want me to go because you’re afraid I won’t come back?” Miguel inquired slowly, piecing it together even as he spoke.

“You saw the way he treated me back there. And I saw the way you reacted. If he does turn bad again you’ll be too scared to leave and I may not be able to save you.” Tulio’s voice rose as he spoke until he was all but shouting, but Miguel didn’t flinch.

“So you’re saying I can’t take care of myself?” Miguel was livid; a fire cooking his stomach at the ill comment Tulio had made. But it wasn’t just Tulio, it was everything. He felt like he was losing control of his life. Ever since he saw his damn father again.

“Not when it comes to your father,” Tulio reminded him brazenly.

“Well thanks for that boost of confidence,” Miguel sneered.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” Tulio’s voice dropped to a comforting murmur. The voice of reason. Well Miguel was tired of reason, and he was tired of people telling him how to live his life.

“I don’t need your protection! And I’m going to prove it.” Miguel whirled around and headed for the door. He didn’t wait for Tulio to respond as he reached for the rusty doorknob.

“Miguel what ar―no! Hey!” A hand captured his wrist and yanked it backward. Before Miguel could even comprehend what was happening he was inches from Tulio’s face and his breath stopped. 

“Tulio…” Those blue eyes were looking at him so intently and full of the emotion Miguel had been unable to identify earlier.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Tulio whispered. Miguel was no longer angry; there was no reason to be.

“Do you really think I’m helpless?” He muttered meekly. Tulio sighed and his eyes revealed words that he was too afraid to say.

“You saved me before, remember?” Tulio pointed out. Miguel was thinking of when he had rescued the Spaniard when they were teenagers and he was hit with a sudden realization. He couldn’t forget the words his father had said earlier, ‘I’ve been waiting for you to come home for years so I could apologize.’ Waiting. Tulio hadn’t just waited for him to come back, he’d found him. And the blonde had almost left him…again.

“Yeah. I guess we’re both helpless,” Miguel deadpanned. He had the smallest of smiles on his face. Tulio thought it had just been him being rescued that day, but Miguel knew better. 

“Hey Tulio?”

“Yeah?”

“My wrist hurts.”

“Oh, sorry,” He loosened his tight grasp, but didn’t let go. Miguel hadn’t wanted him to anyway.

“I believe you were saying something earlier,” Miguel urged him to keep talking. The silence that had been haunting them since yesterday felt strange; unnatural. He was sick of it.

“Right. I’ll try to keep this from getting too sappy and poetic.”

“Why Tulio I never knew you were so sentimental.” Miguel quipped. Tulio smirked and began rubbing small circles on Miguel’s wrist.

“Miguel, I think I’m in love with you.” Miguel let go of a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. He’d known that for a while, but it was still such a tantalizing relief to hear Tulio say it for himself. 

“Good. Because I love you too.” Then Miguel was leaning forward but he hesitated when Tulio’s breath caught centimeters from his lips.

Miguel had heard somewhere that anticipation was always better. At the time, he had thought it sounded strange. He didn’t think the anxiety before you leaped into cold water was better than the actual cool feeling, nor the suspense you had before a long jump from above. But in the moments before their lips met, Miguel believed it with every fiber of his being.


	4. Chapter 4

“Papa! Look what I caught!” 

A small bundle of dark frizzy hair and dirt-stained cheeks tumbled down the paved pathway beside the docks, the ocean sparkling as bright as the boy’s excited blue eyes. He pulled on his father’s sleeve impatiently with one hand while trying to hold onto the cause of his delight with the other. A pair of nervous gray eyes apprehensively glanced at the boy below him way before they flitted back to the fishing rod clasped tightly in his grip.

“Not now, Tulio. I’m busy,” Víctor murmured quietly. The boy stuck out his lower lip and released the fisherman’s sleeve reluctantly. His father was always busy.

“You’re just sitting there,” he muttered vengefully. If the man in front of him heard he gave no sign of it. Tulio peeked down at the object squeezed between his fingers and looked up at Víctor once more before turning back towards the sea, his previous energy having dissipated with his father’s dismissal. When he reached the water’s edge he almost regretted returning the tiny fish to the ocean, but as he watched the small creature disappear behind the foaming waves his earlier excitement seemed incredibly misplaced and his remorse quickly passed.

It wasn’t really all that important anyways.

~.~.~.~

It was easier to wake up the next morning than it had been in weeks. Tulio came into consciousness slowly, taking in a deep breath. As the events of the previous day settled in his mind, Tulio kept his eyes shut. The Spaniard almost didn’t want to open his eyes, scared that when he did Miguel would be gone. That the whole thing would just be a dream and that Miguel would be across the room in his own bed, drooling on his own pillows. 

As if he needed reassurance first, Tulio stretched out his arm in search of his partner’s warmth. When his fingers slipped over the edge of the mattress, Tulio circled back, hoping that somehow he’d just missed it. Soon his hand was wildly covering the surface of the bed, and he snapped open his eyes in disbelief. There was no Miguel. His fear had seemed silly at first, but now it shot through his veins like a fatal disease.

He told himself to calm down. Miguel sometimes got up early in the morning and did a bit of wandering. Tulio wanted to roll his eyes at the small sting on his pride at the thought of Miguel leaving before he had a chance to wake up with him, but he cast the notion aside. They were just going to have to get used to this new thing they had.

He pondered for a moment about what exactly that new thing was. Could he define it with sharp edges and slap on a name? The term boyfriend didn’t seem to quite fit, but lover didn’t seem much better. Tulio supposed that technically they could just keep calling each other partners. 

Partner. The word held so much more meaning now.

Tulio stretched his arms above his head and yawned, trying to think of how to keep himself occupied until Miguel returned. He hopped to his feet and crossed the room, pulling open a loose drawer. Inside he found an old pair of black dice and a new pair of red ones, and pulled them out, setting them on a nearby table.

He’d been trying to figure out how to make loaded dice for a while. The gypsy caravans often sold them, but he figured it’d be a much better investment to just make them by himself. However, as he poked around with the black dice and tried to divulge its secrets, he found himself peering more and more frequently at the door. 

It felt as if eons had passed before the thought first occurred to him. At first, he mentally shook his head at the idea and immediately dismissed it, knowing that Miguel would never actually do it. But then, as more time passed, he thought of more and more things he’d assumed Miguel would never do that Miguel had, in fact, done. The memories made him purse his lips nervously. His thoughts were sent back to the previous day and to their argument and his breathing became even more ragged.

He could have changed.

Tulio knew better. He knew that people, especially people like Roberto, didn’t change. But Miguel, the idealist that he was, always wanted to give second chances. It was simultaneously one of the things Tulio loved and dreaded the most about his partner. 

He glanced at the door again. Miguel had never outright promised he wouldn’t go back. Tulio cursed himself under his breath. He should have gotten it in writing. He tossed both pairs of dice back into their cupboard, thoroughly disgusted with himself. He poked his head outside the door and looked back and forth, then did a quick walk-about around their house. No Miguel. Tulio’s breath grew shorter and shorter as he searched, only one realization coming to mind.

Miguel had gone back to his father’s house after all.

The Spaniard wouldn’t bother with searching all of Seville again. This time he knew exactly where his partner had gone. 

~.~.~.~

He had felt nervousness before, but this went beyond just mere butterflies. It felt more like an entire hive of bees had been released in his stomach, and the eight-year-old boy held his belly in an attempt to hold them in. He could think of nothing more embarrassing than to puke insects for a first impression. The small group of kids hanging out next to the docks hadn’t noticed him yet, even though Tulio was there so often he practically lived there. Or perhaps they had noticed him, and just wanted Tulio to think they hadn’t.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

The boy took in a small shaky breath, and took a few small steps forward until he was just a few paces away from the huddle of children.

“Hey.”

The child’s voice was drowned out by the babble of those around him. Tulio’s courage practically flew out the window, but he made himself clear his voice and try again. “Hey.”

The children around him ceased their chatter and glanced at him uneasily. The boy’s intelligent blue eyes blinked nervously as the kids appraised him coldly. One boy, the tallest of the bunch, stepped forward until he was directly in front of Tulio. His grin could have been friendly, if Tulio hadn’t already seen a million like it. His teeth were aligned strangely, giving him an ugly pair of buck teeth, and Tulio tried desperately not to stare.

“Tulio, right?” he asked. Tulio held back a smile as Buck Tooth identified him, pride sparking in his chest at the thought that finally somebody recognized him.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, jutting a thumb to his chest. A blonde girl peered out from behind Buck Tooth, her brown eyes wide with recognition as well. Another girl shifted her eyes away from the group as if she knew what was coming next. The boy who had identified him grinned widely and stepped closer to Tulio.

“Aren’t you the freak who killed his mom?”

Just like that, any delusion that these children would become his immediate best friends vanished, and if the sudden jolt of pain that shot through his veins was any indication, Tulio suspected that these kids recognized him for all the wrong reasons. He took a step back and crossed his arms.

“I’m not a freak. You’re a freak.” Buck Tooth grinned his disgusting grin again, as if he had already assumed he’d won. Even Tulio had to admit it wasn’t one of his better comebacks. 

“Yeah, well at least my mother’s still alive.”

Somehow, it was those words that drove a splinter through the boy’s heart more than any accusations they could thrust upon him. Tulio knew his faults, he knew he wasn’t perfect, but the reminder that other kids had what he never would was too much. 

“Shut up!” It felt surreal, as if it was not actually Tulio speaking, even though he could feel his lips moving and could see the shock alight in the blonde girl’s eyes.

“Did you really kill your mum?” she piped up, her brown eyes wide with disbelief. Tulio shook his head and took a step back, wishing he’d never seen these children. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” His voice cracked and his throat tightened with the threat of tears. Tulio swallowed back the looming knot rising in his throat. Even to him, the statement sounded weak. Like an excuse – an alibi. 

A lie.

“Is that what they told you?” 

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Before Buck Tooth could reply, the blue-eyed boy was already kicking up dust in the opposite direction, his sleeve wiping away tears he refused to let fall.

~.~.~.~

“Oh come on! I was gone for like a half hour.” 

Miguel dropped the small bundle of food on the table and sighed dramatically. The thought of this happening had occurred to him, but he at least thought Tulio would wait longer than that. Miguel shook his head slowly. He should have known better; the Spaniard panicked far too easily. He should have waited for Tulio to wake up before going out for food, but at the time he just wanted a small amount of time to reflect.

And reflect he had done. Everything had looked different that morning. The streets had seemed so much more open and inviting, the people far kinder – well, their harsh words had seemed far less menacing at least. The air had felt fresh in his lungs and he bounced on his heels as he waited in line to pay, thinking that he couldn’t wait to get home and see Tulio again.

But when he had managed to shut the door behind him with his feet and peered over the top of his parcel of food to see a room void of his partner, he had closed his eyes in annoyance. His intent had been for Tulio to still be asleep when he had returned, but apparently the stubborn Spaniard had immediately assumed the worst.

Miguel took a deep breath and told himself Tulio had just stepped out to use the bathroom. He’d be right back.

The blond set about the task of pulling the food out of the bag and setting it on the table; a couple loaves of bread and some apples. He had almost gotten oranges before he remembered how much Tulio hated them. Besides, what would be better to eat on your first day as lovers than the thing that caused one to initially hate the other? Tulio would appreciate the irony, he was sure.

He wanted to wait for Tulio to return before eating, but the enticing smell of fresh-baked bread was far too tempting for him to wait. He nibbled on a slice and accommodated himself on a small wooden chair right next to the table. He stared at the door until his teeth grazed his fingers before he finally let himself believe what he had known all along.

Tulio had assumed he’d gone back to his father’s.

He had to admit, the idea had crossed his mind once or twice. But Tulio’s argument last night had made him remember every moment his father had demoralized him and he closed his eyes as the unwelcome images flashed before his eyes once more. 

It had started with the small things. His father wouldn’t let him grow out his hair or choose his clothing. He had to spend so much time studying each day, and he was only allowed to leave the house three times a week for an hour. Even then his destination was chosen for him. There was hardly any room for happiness wedged in there, let alone friends.

Which was why, in the end, he had gone with Tulio willingly. It was still to this day, the best decision of his entire life, mostly because it was the first one he’d made on his own. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what it was that had made him think going back home was a good idea, but he was glad his partner had knocked some sense into him. It was one of the many reasons he kept him around.

He wasn’t sure for a moment what he should do, but he was positive from the beginning it was either going to be stupid or crazy. In this case, it was likely to be both. He wrapped the bread back into the cloth it came in so it wouldn’t grow too stale, knowing that they would need to eat when they both returned home that night, and slipped out the door.

~.~.~.~

“Hurry it up, would you?”

“Hey! Get your filthy, wretched little hands out of my dinner!”

“If I find a single speck of dirt on those you won’t see a single coin for the next week!”

“Oy, you better ‘ave those back by tonight or my ‘usband will wring your little chicken neck, ya ‘ear?”

Oh, he heard all right. He heard very clearly. Each time he wanted to whirl around and whack them upside their selfish, overblown heads. He wanted to think of some clever retort and shove it in their faces. He wanted oh-so desperately to make them regret ever opening their big, fat, stupid mouths.

But he bit his tongue, and swallowed whatever words he was going to say. These people were bigger than he was and, loathe as he was to admit it, better than he was. Being called the lowest of names can sometimes lead you to believe you’re the lowest of people. So his replies never got much cleverer than, “Yes, si — ma’am.”

Once a month he got paid to shut his mouth and scrub clothes that hardly showed any signs of grime or sweat; so that’s what he did. And at the end of the day, when they dropped a couple doubloons in his hand and kicked him out the door, Tulio held onto the fact that it was worth it to see the briefest flicker of pride in his father’s eyes when he came home with a bag full of coins.

Even if he knew he was only imagining it.

~.~.~.~

When Tulio found himself staring at Miguel’s old house for the second time that week, he realized how much things can change in a short amount of time. The day before, the place had been an utter wreck; overgrown grass and weeds, peeling paint, broken fence. But within less than twenty-four hours, Roberto had managed to make his house seem much more presentable. The weeds were almost all gone, the fence mended, and the door smelled of fresh paint. But when Tulio looked closely, he could see the indents of the ground where the weeds had been pulled. He could still detect the crack in the fence where it had been broken, and he noticed faint bulges of chipping paint beneath the fresh coat.

Overall it felt completely fake – a perfect reflection of Sir Rubio de la Salarza himself.

He suddenly wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Should he just march up to the door and demand to see Miguel? Could he even do such a thing? Miguel would have had to see this coming. He couldn’t possibly have believed Tulio would just have sat back at home. 

Tulio eventually decided on tact. Parading up to the front door was such a Miguel thing to do, and in this situation he knew that would be the wrong approach. Instead, he snuck around to the back of the house until he could see all the various windows. He wasn’t sure which one Miguel was in and which one Roberto was in, but he kind of figured that if he stood far back enough he’d be able to see into one far enough to tell.

He took several large steps back and peered into one of the windows. It was difficult to tell what was inside, but from what he could see it looked like it was just an empty room of furniture. He leaned against the fence for stability as he tried to balance on his toes, craning his neck in an effort to see. He had never been in Miguel’s old room before, but he assumed he would know it when he saw it.

He was about to crawl on top of the railing when he saw a shadow flash in front of one of the windows. Fighting to hold back a triumphant smile, he rushed towards the window it was under and cupped his hands around his mouth. 

“Miguel!” He called out, his voice no louder than a whisper. He saw the flash again and waited silently for his partner to open the shutter. When no such occurrence took place he pursed his lips and tried again. “Miguel!”

There was a dull thud from inside the house as if someone had jumped and hit something. Tulio felt a swell of hope rise in his chest as he realized that Miguel was always one to be easily startled. However, when the window slid open and the broad face popped out, the Spaniard felt his hope crumble like dust in the wind.

“What are you doing here, Rivera?” Roberto’s voice was cold, yet his russet eyes burned with rage. Tulio took an uncertain step back, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected the man to suddenly materialize behind him.

“I’m here for Miguel.” He had fully meant for his voice to come out confident and strong, and he had definitely intended for Roberto to wither under his penetrating gaze, although Tulio should have gathered by that point things hardly went according to his plans.

Roberto was silent for a moment, and Tulio felt himself swallow as the man stared at him. Tulio was building up the courage to repeat himself when Roberto finally spoke again, his voice quiet. “Haven’t you interfered in his life enough?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The outburst was immediate and Tulio had to fight not to shrink away from his tone, not wanting to admit that he was at least a little bit scared of this man. He couldn’t understand how Miguel hadn’t run off sooner.

“Like I told you yesterday, Miguel was on his way to becoming a great man. He could have been a scholar or a politician. But no, he always wanted to be an explorer. That damn Cortés and de León. The whole lot of them filled my son’s head with thoughts of adventure. When he wasn’t parading around the house like he was brandishing a sword he was singing about how he was going to be a musician. He didn’t want something practical like a physician, no he wanted anything but. He wanted to be an actor or an artist. I was so close to getting that behavior out of him. He would have been a wonderful contribution to society. Then he met you and that chance flew out that window.” 

It took Tulio a moment to respond, his eyelids half-blinking in shock. He had never thought of it that way; Miguel had never told him he could have had any of those professions. The blond had never wanted to talk about his old home life, and Tulio had respected that, having experienced first-hand just how bad it must have been. Though Tulio could still comprehend why Miguel had wanted to leave, he was beginning to fathom his father’s side of the story, and that notion scared him more than anything.

Although, Tulio decided with a silent cackle, Miguel wasn’t cut out for the scholar life. He’d have been about as helpful as a potato to those overblown pinheads. 

“You’re insane,” Tulio taunted, feeling quite sure the old man would fall for it.

Sure enough, Roberto narrowed his eyes and pulled the shutters closed. Tulio reckoned he only had a set amount of time before the front door would be locked, so he catapulted himself over the picket fence and sprinted for the door. His shoulder slammed into the door and halted his progress. He jammed his hand in the handle and pulled the trigger, bursting into the entry hallway. “Miguel!” he shouted, “Get down here you twit.” 

Maybe it was because Tulio was more experienced now – or perhaps it was because he was much taller – but the interior of Miguel’s house no longer seemed magical like it was the last time he’d been there. When he was a child stepping beyond the boundaries of his little impoverished life and walking into the prince’s palace, he had been mesmerized. Now, the white floors no longer seemed spotless, and he couldn’t detect the shine of polished marble in the walls anymore. The chandelier seemed much smaller and the hallway felt like it was squeezing the life out of him.

He heard a thumping of feet on the stairs and whirled around, hoping to see the blond hair and green eyes he was so fond of. Instead, he saw Roberto ambling down the steps at warp speed; his dark brown eyes were alight with flames.  
“How dare you enter my home!” he bellowed, face red with rage.

“Yeah, yeah, save the pleasantries for someone who cares,” Tulio muttered under his breath. “Where’s Miguel?”

Roberto didn’t respond, simply shoved past the conman on his way to the door. Tulio’s eyes widened as they saw Roberto’s hand bolt the lock and the sound of its ominous click filled the air. Roberto lifted his gaze and his brown eyes were cold and dark; characteristically so. Tulio’s stomach dropped as he was suddenly reminded of why he used to fear this man so much. It was those eyes; hard as flint and as unmovable as mountains. Tulio would never in a million years understand what it was that made Miguel stay with him for so long, though he supposed in a way it was the same reason Tulio had stayed with his own father. Once you spent so much time chasing after something, you felt this strange sense of loss at the thought of letting it go.

When Roberto finally spoke, a chill ran down Tulio’s spine and a cold sweat beaded on his neck.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Tulio.”

~.~.~.~

Mónica Catalina Rivera.

It was a name he had heard many times in his life; those three words had haunted him since the day he was born. Obviously, he had never heard them once from his father, but there were far worse ways to learn about how your mother died. And, of course, the worst way was often the one that found him – as was the way of this world.

After all, where he came from, the whispers felt more like screams.

He had never known her. He’d never heard a story, or heard the fond retelling of a memory. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to the choices he had made and the ones he hadn’t, and he had no idea whether she’d be proud, disappointed, or if she’d even care. Hell, he didn’t even have a face to tack onto the sad image he had conjured in his mind. All he had was a name.

It just wasn’t enough.

Child birth was a tricky process, and sometimes people didn’t make it all the way through; sometimes something went wrong. In that part of the world, ‘sometimes’ occurred more often than you’d think. Tulio curled his nose at the thought. It sounded like some sort of exclusive club.

And he was a member, but not a happy one.

The Spaniard crouched next to the small stone, pursing his lips gently. He didn’t come here often. In fact, it hadn’t been until recently he’d even known this had existed. Finding the tombstone of your deceased mother while hiding from a few kids you just stole from was not a pleasant experience. However, as soon as he caught sight of the words scrawled in the ivory stone, he had known that it was his mother that lay just below his feet.

And every so often, when the weight of the world almost seemed to crush open his chest, he would visit her and know that finally, finally he had just a little bit more than a name.

~.~.~.~

Miguel’s steps were light as he approached his old house, green eyes flitting over the scene like a deer in hunting season. It looked exactly like he remembered it had, and the memories that the house alone sparked were enough to make him reconsider this entire endeavor. 

What if he was wrong? What if Tulio was just at the pub and he was here for nothing?

Yeah, pub. The cantina sounded really good right about now.

“What the hell?” Miguel froze when the shout filled the empty air, unmistakably familiar. 

Tulio.

“Oh, God.” Miguel ran his hands though his hair as he stared at the front door. He only hesitated for a moment before he found himself catapulting himself at the door. He hissed a curse under his breath when he found the handle locked. Miguel briefly considered beating his hand against the door and begging to be let in. 

Suddenly he remembered an old trick he had used to sneak out at night after his father had been long asleep. He wasn’t sure if it would work anymore; after he had been caught his father had quickly remedied the situation. But after all these years, Miguel would be surprised if Roberto had remembered to maintain it.

And then his legs were once again whipping him across his father’s yard, this time carrying him to the back of the house. Miguel scoured the lawn quickly, a strange mixture of excitement and dread fizzling through his veins.

Then his eyes caught sight of something that made his chest weak with relief. At the far end of his house – just under the bathroom window – was a huge thicket of ivy that crawled up along the wall. The sight of the plant made Miguel’s knees tingle as if the leaves were once again tickling his skin, and for a moment the blond could have sworn that it was the dead of night and he was fourteen again and sneaking off to do anything.

Suddenly Miguel shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Before he knew what he was doing, Miguel found himself already heaving his body up the side of his house, his fingers scrabbling for indents that he could hold onto. 

Miguel hissed under his breath when his leg smacked into the window pane as he tumbled headfirst into his old bathroom. He lay on the floor for a moment, waiting to see if he’d been heard, but the realization that he was lying on a bathroom floor had him on his feet without a second thought.

And that was when he paused. This was the point of the game where he would turn to Tulio, give him a large, flustered smile and ask, “What now?” But Tulio wasn’t there to do that. Well, he was there, but not there there. Tulio was downstairs, going through whatever crazy stunt his father was pulling this time. Miguel felt a faint flicker of guilt before he took a deep breath and did what he did best: improvised.

He yanked open the door and hurtled himself down the stairs, not bothering to try and hush the sound his feet made as they impacted each step. Down the hall he heard a soft, “Did you hear that?” followed by a strained, “It’s a bit – ugh – difficult to hear – over your insanity.”

Miguel paused on the last step, his palm hovering above the handrail. He heard the distinct creak of the third door down the hall – the one with the squeaky hinges that always gave him away when he tried to sneak around at night – and then the ominous thudding of heavy, looming steps down the foyer.

The blond barely had time to swallow his fear before his father’s face was suddenly peering down at him. Even with the advantage of being a step above him, Miguel’s height just couldn’t match up to Roberto’s. 

However, as Miguel stared defiantly up at his father, for the first time he did not feel the cold grip of fear squeeze his heart. In fact, he felt a strange bout of pity and alarm when he saw the state of the man in front of him, despite having just seen him the previous day. The bags under Roberto’s eyes were dark, and his skin had turned an unflattering sallow shade. It was entirely uncomplimentary to the gray that had practically overcome his father’s tangled mass of hair. Miguel was unsure whether his face was more skin or beard. It seemed as though Roberto had not slept for days, although judging from the size of his stomach he had spent all that extra time raiding the kitchen instead.

“Miguel…” Roberto breathed the word as if he hardly dared to believe it; like if he said his name too harshly he’d scare the blond off. Miguel, meanwhile, was completely unsure where to place his hands. He let them dangle at his sides before feeling far too exposed, and then wrung them in front of his stomach before realizing it made him look too nervous. Finally he crossed his arms, determined to not let his hands have an opinion in the matter.

“Where’s Tulio?” Miguel asked, his voice coming out in a croak. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, desperate not to see what he was sure would be a flicker of annoyance in his father’s eyes.

Roberto chuckled softly before dropping his hand onto Miguel’s shoulder. Surprised, Miguel almost allowed his knees to buckle under the unexpected contact. He automatically snapped his gaze back to his father’s face and gulped at the crazed look gleaming in his brown eyes.

“Why don’t you come and see?”

~.~.~.~

He woke up to the sound of coughing. 

At first, he tried to ignore it, telling himself it was just his sleep-addled brain. However, just as his eyes were closing again he heard it once more: a loud hacking sound that seemed eerily familiar. 

Carefully, Tulio swung his legs over the side of the bed and snuck out into the front room, following the sound of wheezing until he found himself standing in front of his father’s door. Tulio stared at the doorknob, eyes wide as saucers. He had never once stepped foot beyond this shadowy domain, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to start now.

Suddenly there was the sound of retching that caused Tulio’s stomach to churn. Slowly, as if he was in a dream, Tulio pushed open the door and stepped into his father’s bedroom. 

Immediately Tulio recoiled at the horrid scent that seemed embedded into the very walls. It was like a disgusting mixture of spoiled meat and disease. Spain didn’t exactly smell like roses, but surely this was crossing some sort of line. 

The choking sound started up again, causing Tulio to jump. He scanned his eyes around the room until they settled on the bed in the center, and Tulio could not hold back his gasp.

Huddled in a ball in the corner of his mattress, was Tulio’s father. His skin was flushed, sweat beaded at his brow. His eyes were half-closed, as if he wanted to fall asleep but was terrified he wouldn’t wake back up. Tulio took a step back when Victor brought his hand up to his face and began hacking again.

“Dad?” Tulio’s voice was no more than a whisper, but the silence that followed made it seem like a scream.

“What are — you doing in here?” Victor rasped, his sentence interrupted by a series of coughs. “Are you tr–trying to get sick? Get out.”

“But—”

“Out!” Victor cried as loud as he could before dissolving into another fit of wheezes. Tentatively, Tulio backed out of the room, already making plans to visit the doctor in the morning. 

He didn’t care what it cost – he couldn’t afford to lose anything else.

~.~.~.~

Tulio wasn’t quite sure what had happened. One minute he was having a stare-down with Roberto and trying to judge what exactly he was going to do, and the next moment he was sprinting down the closest hallway and jiggling doorknobs at random to see if any were unlocked. The Spaniard had to admit he had not expected Roberto to outrun him considering he seemed as though he had long ago forsaken the action. He remembered a splintering pain in the backside of his head, and then the crack of his skull as it slammed into the marble floor before darkness overtook him. 

Now, he blearily blinked open his eyes, feeling a groan rumble in his chest. He tried to raise a hand to wipe at his eyes, but his arms refused to listen to him. A tendril of fear coiled itself around his heart as a thousand different possibilities came to mind. Had he been paralyzed? Had someone chopped off his arms or…or…

Or tied him up against a chair.

Tulio’s hands were bound to the arms of a wooden seat, his ankles tied to the legs. The rope holding him down was thick and knotted like someone who knew what they were doing. Tulio pulled against the restraints, grimacing as the harsh rope dug into his wrists. He muttered a string of curses and swung his gaze across the room as if he would find a way out of this situation just lying on the floor nearby.

He was in a fancy looking room with white walls and an oak floor. The ceiling was expansive, and stretched far above his head. In the center there was a large bed, the sheets thrown about haphazardly. There were two doors that led off to other parts of the mansion, and Tulio appraised them both in an effort to decide which one he’d choose if he managed to escape.

“That didn’t take long,” a voice growled nearby. “I expected you to be out longer.”

Tulio jumped, looing around to find the source of the noise. In the corner, he found Roberto lounging on a small sofa, his legs sprawled up on an adjacent table. Miguel’s father was flicking through a large book as casually as if this was a regular occurrence for him, and Tulio was merely a weekly guest. 

“What the hell?” Tulio shouted, pulling at his restraints once more. At Tulio’s words Roberto carefully placed a ribbon to mark his place and set the book aside, dropping it next to an exquisite glass lamp in the shape of a swan. He heaved his legs off the table with what looked like a great effort.

“This isn’t personal,” he began, before cutting himself off. “Well, it is a bit personal. You know, because I absolutely detest you. But I’m not going to hurt you quite yet.” As he spoke, Tulio thought about how crazy this all was. How had this deranged psycho managed to raise someone like Miguel without thoroughly messing him up?

“Great,” Tulio huffed as he tried once again to escape from the cord. “I can really tell where Miguel got his — ugh — manners from.” 

“Naturally,” Roberto replied. If he noticed the sarcasm oozing from Tulio’s words he gave no hint of it. “Did you think he’d learnt it from a thief?” Tulio opened his mouth to throw back an icy retort where there was a loud series of crashes, like someone had tripped and tumbled down the stairs. A feeling of dread settled in Tulio’s stomach when he realized who that had to be.

Roberto must have made the same connection, because his face split into a wide grin and revealed broken and yellow teeth. “Did you hear that?” he asked hoarsely. 

Tulio yanked once more at the ropes, ignoring the slices they were leaving on his skin in favor of buying his partner some time.

“It’s a bit – ugh – difficult to hear – over your insanity,” he hissed, hoping to enrage him enough to keep him in this room. But Roberto merely glowered at him darkly before abandoning him and rushing out into the hall.

Tulio heard the distant muffle of politely strained conversation, and his hunch that the intruder was Miguel was immediately confirmed. Tulio leaned down to see if he could pull at the knot with his teeth, but he couldn’t even reach the rope. With an annoyed sniff, he pulled his legs forward, trying to think of a creative way to release his feet.

Suddenly he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and he snapped his posture upright, trying to make himself look very comfortable and not at all like he was tied up in a maniac’s castle with ropes digging painfully into his skin.

Tulio was the first thing Miguel saw when he entered the room, and Tulio felt a twinge of guilt as his partner’s eyes instantly grew wide with horror. Miguel had no chance to release him before his father ambled in seconds later, herding his son over to an opposite corner. 

“What’s going on?” Miguel demanded. Tulio resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was it really not obvious?

“I knew that if your friend was here you wouldn’t be far behind,” Roberto said proudly. “So I decided to keep him here for – er – safe-keeping.”

“Nutter,” Tulio said under his breath. Roberto’s jaw clenched but he didn’t reply. 

“Anyways,” Roberto continued, “that’s not the issue.” The old man moved until he was in front of Miguel, the blond nervously taking a step back. “Miguel, have you thought over my proposition?” 

Miguel was blinking rapidly and he opened and closed his mouth several times. Tulio watched from the sidelines curiously. Finally, Tulio cleared his throat and it seemed to snap Miguel out of whatever trance he had been in. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I have.”

“And?” Roberto urged impatiently, hardly giving Miguel time to elaborate.

“And…” Miguel peered over Roberto’s shoulder and caught Tulio’s gaze. Tulio shook his head, his blue eyes spelling danger. Miguel swallowed and turned back towards his father. “And I’m not going to live here.” Miguel’s brow furrowed and he stared at the ground as he rambled onwards. “And I’m not going to stay here either, or visit, or write, or anything. Because…you…” Miguel had lifted his eyes and when he saw the expression on his father’s face his bottom lip trembled, causing his words to cease. Tulio felt a flare of anger and he pulled once more against the restraints, a growl rising in his throat.

“I thought it might come to this,” Roberto said gravely, his voice not wavering despite his son’s speech. He took a step towards Tulio and reached a hand into the pocket of his own white vest. Instinctively, Tulio leaned as far away as he could, his feet scrabbling against the floor as he tried to push the chair in the opposite direction.

“Twelve years is a long time to think – too long, in fact.” Roberto’s hand withdrew from his pocket and both Miguel and Tulio let out a hiss of alarm. “For a while I thought you must have been kidnapped. Obviously, there could be no other conclusion.” Dull thuds echoed around the bedroom as Roberto drew closer and closer to Tulio. “But after about two years or so I began to realize you must have run off on your own. Who in their right mind would steal my son, after all?” He twirled the knife in his hand slowly; dangerously. “And then…then I realized…” Roberto finally met Tulio’s gaze, and Tulio felt the air leave his body. “Somebody had.

“I’ve been looking for you two for a long time,” Roberto said, his voice suddenly soft. “This house has just been far too empty without my wife and child. I never dreamed it would take twelve long years, but after a while the months just melted together.” Roberto leaned down until he was level with Tulio, and Tulio tried not to crinkle his noise as hot breath wafted over the thief’s face. “And now here you are…” Roberto trailed off, lost in thought.

“Father — Dad…wh…” Miguel’s voice constricted into an oddly high interval and Tulio felt something in his chest clench at the expression on his partner’s face. Roberto seemed to come to his senses once he heard his son’s voice and quickly straightened himself, whirling around to face Miguel. 

“You have no idea what’s it like,” Roberto whispered. “This house is too big for one man.”

Miguel’s face suddenly softened, and Tulio felt a blaze of frustration. Miguel was not allowed to feel sorry for this psychopath.

“Luckily you’re big enough for two,” he blurted, not bothering to try and stop himself. Miguel kept staring at his father, but Tulio felt a twinge of satisfaction when the blond had to purse his lips to keep himself from laughing.

“Think this is funny, do ya?” Roberto’s head whipped back and forth between Miguel and Tulio, his eyes bulging enough to pop out of their sockets. His face began turning a bright shade of magenta and his knuckles turned white as his grip on the knife in his hand tightened. “Well, you’re sure to find this hilarious.” Tulio knew he had crossed a line when Roberto closed to distance to Tulio and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back.

“No!” Miguel cried out in one burst. He took a step closer but held himself back when Roberto pressed the knife to Tulio’s cheek in warning. The blood drained from Miguel’s face when Tulio let out an involuntary hiss at the cool touch.

“I’ve tried being nice,” Roberto said, his voice trembling with rage. “But I am not letting you leave this house again. If you stay willingly, Rivera lives. But if you don’t…” Neither of them needed Roberto to finish that sentence.

“He dies?” Miguel’s voice was incredulous, and Tulio vaguely wondered why he didn’t seem a bit more put-off by the idea.

“Son, you know I hate to resort to these measures but I really feel that — why…why are you laughing?” Tulio wanted to ask the same question. Miguel leaned against the bed post as he doubled over, his face turning pink, though Tulio was unsure whether it was real amusement or just nerves.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this is — this is just far too cheesy. You’re seriously resorting to murder? You do realize that—” Miguel’s amusement dissipated as he stared down at the arms of the chair, where Tulio was desperately wiggling his fingers in what he hoped what a panicked fashion.

Over the years, they had found themselves in many scrapes in which speaking the plan out loud was just simply not an option. One night, after a particularly stressful con including two drunkards and a crate full of fish, they had bunkered down and created a simple system of sign language that they could use to communicate with each other. Using only his fingers limited the things he could say, but he felt that the message was getting across just fine. He curled his right hand into a fist.

Wait.

“Realize what?” Roberto asked, suspicion leaking into his voice. Miguel stared at Tulio’s hands, waiting as long as he could for another sign, but Tulio couldn’t convey what he wanted unless he could use his whole arm. Frustrated, he crossed both of his fingers.

Food.

Miguel blinked, and Tulio tried to hold back a groan. Tulio crossed his fingers fiercely until his knuckles turned white.

Food, damn it!

“Cheesy…” Miguel’s mouth suddenly dropped slightly, but in the same fluid motion he snapped it shut so that Tulio was unsure if he had only imagined it.

“What?” Roberto asked, suddenly perplexed.

“Um — I mean, I would simply perish without him!” Miguel flung the back of his hand over his forehead and leaned against the bedpost, this time for a different reason. “Oh how I remember the days in which I so foolishly mocked the cheesy romances that have plagued our stories for centuries. But now, now I truly see the tragedy behind Romeo’s anguish. Woe is the man who lives without his beloved! How shall I ever continue?” 

Tulio gave him a thumbs-up at the same time that Roberto sputtered, “Beloved?”

Tulio wiggled his index finger up and down.

Down.

He had meant to tell Miguel to tone it down a bit, but sliding to the floor seemed to work as well.

“That’s not – never mind, we’ll speak about that later. What’ll it be? Hm?” Roberto didn’t seem especially interested in the mess his son was turning into on the floor, his chest heaving with sobs that gave even Tulio pause.

“Miguel! Don’t do it!” Tulio suddenly shouted. The blond peered up at him, his eyebrows screwed up in utter confusion. Tulio quickly tapped his thumb against his pinkie.

Yes.

Suddenly Miguel flung himself at his father’s feet. “Alright, you win, you win! I’ll stay with you, just release my friend.” Roberto barked in triumph, reflecting the feeling currently soaring through Tulio’s veins. Miguel had played his part beautifully.

Tulio felt Roberto’s grip weaken, and he took this as his chance. Quick as a whip, he turned his head and grasped the knife in his teeth and ripped it out of Roberto’s grasp, flinging it across the room. The blade skidded across the floor and smacked into the wall with a heavy thump. Roberto cursed, and Miguel immediately swept his arms in front of him and knocked his father’s feet out from under him. 

With a deafening crash Roberto’s mighty figure was felled with a thunderous roar. Miguel jumped back, and Tulio instinctively yanked his weight away from the catastrophe and ended up toppling onto his side. 

“Ow.”

From his new position on the ground Tulio could not see what was happening. He heard the sound of what must have been Roberto struggling to his feet, and the immediate scuffle that unfolded when Miguel tried to keep him away from Tulio. When he tried craning his neck to see the battle, he caught sight of the abandoned weapon lying a foot away. Hoping that neither of them would notice him, Tulio threw his weight around again and inched closer to the blade.

Tulio heard something smash and the unmistakable tinkle of broken glass. With a newfound desperation, Tulio’s muscles bulged as he used as much strength as possible to get to the knife. He was only a few inches away…

Suddenly he heard Miguel yelp in pain, and after a moment he heard a thump and the sound of a body crumpling to the ground. 

“Miguel?” he called out, not pausing his efforts. There was no response, and Tulio could feel raw emotions pumping through his body. Fear, anger, hatred, love, anger, anger, anger.

He suddenly heard a grunt, followed by light footsteps. Tulio quickly reached out his neck until he could feel the sinister edge of the knife caress his lips and he only had to get it to his hand, just his hand—

“Need some help with that?”

The weapon tumbled from Tulio’s lips as he let out a bout of shrill laughter, nerves causing his hands to shake. “You had me there for a second. How long were you watching me worm my way across the floor?”

“Not long.” Miguel grasped the edge of the chair and righted him, reaching down to grab the knife. “But it was still pretty funny.” Miguel began hacking at the thick ropes around Tulio’s wrist, and Tulio allowed himself to glance at the other side of the room. 

Scattered across the floor was the remnants of the swan lamp. Roberto’s book was splayed against the floor, the ribbon marking his place hanging limply from the spine. And slumped across the table lay Salarza himself, his arms flung recklessly across his body.

“Damn,” Tulio said, praise in his voice. “Wish that could have been me.” Miguel smiled grimly, but otherwise didn’t respond. “What did you do to him?”

“I, uh, smashed the lamp over his head.” Sure enough, when Tulio glanced down at his hands, the thief could see a small trickle of blood where Miguel must have cut himself on the glass.

“Is he…you know…” Tulio wasn’t sure if this was a question he was supposed to say out loud. But he was sure that if he was ever going to ask, it was better he did it now while the pain was still fresh, rather than putting it off for later. 

“No,” Miguel said firmly, digging the knife in deeper until he slipped and caught the side of Tulio’s arm, drawing blood. Tulio yelped in surprise and Miguel’s hands trembled as they hovered over the injury. “Damn it, I’m sorry, um—” 

“I’m fine,” Tulio lied. “Can you just undo the knots?” It was an infinitely safer option, but Miguel just shook his head.

“This is faster.” Tulio held back the urge to say that, yes, this would kill him much faster, and instead hummed softly in response. Eventually, when Miguel’s hands began shaking so much that he could no longer hold the knife, he whimpered and dropped his head against Tulio’s chest. The blade fell to the floor with a soft clatter but Miguel didn’t make any noise, just smashed his nose against Tulio’s breast.

The room was silent for several tense moments as the events that just unfolded played over and over in their head. Tulio had known Salarza was crazy, but he’d never known he would resort to such measures. Tulio felt free to say that he’d had enough excitement to last him for the next ten years.

“Life sucks,” Miguel finally whispered.

Tulio rested his chin against the top of Miguel’s blond head – the only comfort he could currently offer. “Since when does it do anything else?” Miguel’s laughter, gentle as a breeze and warm as fresh bread tickled his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Do us both a favor and leave the dumb questions to me,” Miguel replied curtly, taking a deep breath and leaning down to retrieve the knife. Tulio sat there patiently as Miguel slowly snapped the fibers of the rope until Tulio could finally yank free. He tugged the dagger from Miguel’s grasp and had his other hand undone within a minute, reaching down to quickly undo his ankles as well. 

As soon as he was free, he tossed the blade aside and enveloped Miguel in a hug. The blond instantly buried his face in the crook of Tulio’s neck and wrapped his arms around the taller man. 

“I take it you’re not staying after all?” Tulio asked jokingly, suddenly feeling the need to make Miguel feel better, just as the blond always did for him. He felt Miguel shake his head against his shoulder and was slightly shocked to see how seriously his partner answered. Tulio pulled back, staring him in the eye.

“So,” he began, his mouth twisting into a smile, “you’d simply perish without me, huh?” Miguel snorted and slapped his arms, but Tulio thrilled in the smile that finally graced his partner’s lips.

“Shut up. And what was with that stupid clue? Food? Really?”

“It was supposed to mean cheesy,” Tulio clarified. “It’s not my fault I was restricted to only hands.” As if in reminder, his arms suddenly throbbed with a sharp pain. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath as the sight of his ravaged skin. He ran his fingers over the spot when the knife had pricked his arm and spread the excess blood out of the way. It was a tiny cut, more of a poke to be honest. Tulio wasn’t worried.

However, he was concerned about getting them home before a certain someone woke up from his nap. Tulio placed his hand on Miguel’s shoulder, a familiar gesture for the both of them, and began leading him towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, do we just…leave him there?” Miguel asked, shooting a glance as the awkward angle his father was positioned.

“Yeah, that’s basically how this works,” Tulio said firmly, prodding his partner out the door and not even sparing a glance over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

~.~.~.~

“Tulio!”

The tall Spaniard stopped dead in his tracks and glanced behind him to see a kid running towards him full throttle. The blond yelped when he saw Tulio halt and barely managed to stop himself before ramming straight into him.

“Did you get it?” The words spilled out of Miguel’s mouth in a rush and Tulio laughed.

“Course I did. Thanks to you, partner.” He held up the tiny bag of medication as proof and Miguel smiled widely.

“So who is the medicine for?” Miguel asked. At this, Tulio faltered. He remembered the dank room in which his father wallowed, and recalled the bitter scent of his sickness hanging thick in the air. Unconsciously, Tulio bit his lip which didn’t go unnoticed by his blond cohort.

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Miguel quickly. But Tulio needed someone he could trust. He’d never had a confidant before, but he’d always wanted one.

“It’s for my father,” Tulio confessed slowly, tasting the words on his lips as if they tasted foreign. “He’s sick, but he refuses to admit it.” Miguel suddenly stifled a laugh, and Tulio was opening his mouth to tell him to forget it when Miguel pointed at him in accusation.

“A—Are you going to drug your father?” he gasped, not nearly as horrified as her probably should have been. Tulio grinned cheekily but didn’t respond. He looked over at his friend and saw that he staring at him with a humorous look in his green eyes.

Like emeralds.

Tulio blinked and coughed into his hand; looking away.

“So, what are you gonna do now?” Tulio found himself asking the question before he really thought about it. But it was a question he suddenly needed to know the answer to. He saw Miguel look at him through the corner of his eyes as if he wasn’t sure what was happening.

“I was just going to go home.” Miguel shrugged nonchalantly, but the idea of him doing that caused Tulio’s mouth to dry considerably.

“Do you want to come with me?” Again, the words slipped out without his consent, but in a way he was glad they had because he knew he never would have said them otherwise. The shock on Miguel’s face stunned him out of his rapture and for a moment he considered the possibility that Miguel might actually say no. 

“You mean run away?” Miguel inquired. “With you?” It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but once Miguel mentioned it the raven-haired boy couldn’t get it out of his head. Could he take Miguel to his home? He could imagine it now: his father completely ignoring him as he tried to introduce his friend. Miguel would probably give him a soft smile that was meant to comfort but would be filled with the pity that burned the thief to his core. It was a better option than letting Miguel return to his home, but just barely. Tulio couldn’t read his friends facial expression, though he assumed that would come in time. However, right now it was killing him not to know the blond’s thoughts.

“Well, I mean we could – if you wanted to,” Tulio mumbled. “We could just drop off this medicine and get the hell out of here.” Tulio was grasped by an unexpected excitement that shook him to the core. He grabbed his friend’s shoulder and squeezed it. He was never going to get sick of calling him that. His friend. His first and only friend. His buddy, his amigo, his partner, his friend.

“You wouldn’t miss anyone, and no one would miss me,” Tulio said softly, one last attempt to convince Miguel. “Haven’t you ever just wanted to disappear?”

Something changed in Miguel’s expression at those words. He could see the gears working in the blond’s head as if he was trying to think about some way that this may not be real. But there was no time for thinking, only for yes or no.

Green eyes met blue and in that moment no words were necessary. 

“Well what are we waiting for, partner?”


End file.
